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“But you could be something worse.” It’s obvious Nikita is as fierce as her brother, but for the first time, I see her claws and I understand why they’re out. This protectiveness is how she shows her love for her brother.
I can appreciate that.
“I could sit here and tell you any lie in the book—or any truth, for that matter—and you still wouldn’t believe a word I said. The only thing I can do is live my life and hope that one day, you’ll realize you were wrong about me.”
Nikita’s eyes widen just a little as she appraises me. Then she leans back in her seat.
After a moment, she smiles.
Apparently, the best way to win over a woman like this is to not try. In some small way, I’ve won her grudging respect.
“I don’t hate you, Paige,” she says after a prolonged moment of silence. “But I am suspicious of anyone and everyone who comes into our lives. Before Petyr Ivanov was our enemy, he was a trusted friend.”
I freeze. “What?”
She nods. “He even joined us for family dinners on occasion. He and Maksim were close.”
“Really?”
Her eyes fade to something distant and somber at the thought. “For years.”
“What happened?”
“Competition, greed, pride. Who knows?” she says with a delicate shrug of her shoulders. “But things began to change between Maksim and Petyr, and it bled into their respective armies. Then it bled in real life, so to speak.”
“I… I didn’t know.”
“Misha didn’t tell you?”
I feel a stab of discomfort at the reminder of just how much Misha hasn’t told me. “He doesn’t really talk about Maksim that often. Just a few little anecdotes here and there…”
Nikita frowns. “Well, that’s more than he says to me.”
“Getting him to open up is like pulling teeth,” I say. “Every time I think we’re getting closer, he pulls the rug right out from underneath me. That’s a bad metaphor, but you know what I mean.”
The waiter approaches with Nikita’s wine. She picks it up off the tray with a flourish and sends him tripping off with another seductive smile.
“That’s my brother,” Nikita says. “Emotionally barren.”
“But he’s not,” I argue. “In fact, I think he feels so much that he tries to protect himself by putting up all these walls. He hides behind the Bratva rulebook like it’s a religion.”
Nikita snorts humorlessly. “So you’ve been acquainted with the rulebook, then?”
“I don’t want to offend you, but I’m not a fan.”
“We have at least one thing in common.”
Our eyes meet, and I can feel the air between us shifting. Softening. We haven’t quite touched on friendship yet, but honesty and comfort are a great first step.
“It sucks to know that the only reason your husband wanted to marry you is because you accidentally got pregnant. If I was in charge of the rules, that antiquated nonsense would be the first to go.”
“He told you that was the only reason?”
I nod. “He wanted me to know that there was no chance of us having a typical marriage. He’s my business partner more than my husband.”
“And you agreed?”
“He told me that I’d have to choose between marrying him or leaving behind my child,” I say sharply. “It wasn’t much of a choice. I don’t have the resources to fight that kind of ultimatum.”
